Uninvited
by Snow Duchess
Summary: Two part sequel to Wind Beneath Me. Faith’s affections aroused some uninvited feelings in Willow along with an unexpected twist. Now, can the two leave the past buried, finding strength in each other to move on with their future?
1. Part I

Uninvited

_Disclaimer: All rights belong to Joss Whedon and ME._

_Summary: Two-part sequel to Wind Beneath Me. Faith's affections arouse some uninvited feelings in Willow along with an unexpected twist…_

_Author's Note: This first part is based on the episode Killer in Me. The second part will be posted as a second chapter at some time in the future._

_Author's Note 2: There is a brief exchange here that serves as my ode to Casino Royale. Long live James Bond._

_Warning: Language and suggestive themes.  
_

_Like anyone would be  
I am flattered by your fascination with me  
Like any hot blooded woman  
I have simply wanted an object to crave  
But you, you're not allowed  
You're uninvited  
An unfortunate slight_

_ Uninvited---Alanis Morissette_

* * *

Part I  
(LATE AFTERNOON) 

"Now, you're sure you'll be all right while I'm gone?"

"Giles, we've been surviving for months without you," Buffy answered. "Trust me, we'll be fine. Now go and have no fun at all."

The Watcher gave her a stern look. "Yes, well, apparently _someone_ told them that the vision quest consists of me driving them out to the middle of the desert where I do the hokey pokey until a Cave-Slayer in dire need of modern hair care and a toothbrush arrives and speaks to them in riddles."

Buffy grinned sheepishly. "Well…in all fairness, that _is_ what happened when you took me…"

Kennedy leaned over to Willow and said in a stage-whisper. "Think I could fake the flu to get out of this?"

The witch sighed in slight exasperation and pointed to the front door. "Go."

The dark haired Potential pretended to pout as she grabbed her bag and made her way in that direction. Looking outside, she paused momentarily. "Oh boy, looks like Molly and Rona are fighting for the car keys."

Faith chuckled, giving the Potential a slight shove out the door. "Better get out there to referee, Brat."

Giles unconsciously mimicked Willow's sigh. "Now, Faith, are you certain you wouldn't like to join us? I'm sure the vision quest would be beneficial to you as well."

"No thanks, G. Had enough head trips with Fang to last at least another decade."

"Very well, then. See you all in a couple days."

Buffy waved. "See ya, Giles."

"Bye, Giles!" Willow smiled brightly. "Bring us back some s'mores."

"Oh, good Lord, I'm going to end up singing campfire songs, aren't I?"

Xander gave the Watcher a light chuck on the shoulder as the older man walked out the front door. "Yep! That's the spirit, Giles!"

Faith watched half-amused as the Watcher tried to coax Rona to let Molly out of the trunk. "Giles sure he can handle the rug-rats?"

"So he claims," Willow said doubtfully.

Buffy waved it off. "Ah, he'll be fine. He put up with you, me, and Xander all those years. What's a dozen more teenagers?"

"Before or after he has a stroke?" Willow asked pointedly.

"Good point." A few moments of silence passed while the Scoobies continued to watch Giles and the Potentials. Suddenly, Buffy perked up and announced cheerily, "Well, I'm gonna go take a nice looooong shower before work."

"And I'm off to the site," Xander said. "Later, ladies."

"Bye, Xand!" both Buffy and Willow called as the carpenter left.

With a dramatic sigh, Willow dropped down in front of her laptop to continue her futile research. A few quiet minutes of the witch typing in searches and scrolling through various websites passed. She didn't look up from her screen as Faith plopped down across the table from her. After the _hiss_ and _pop _of a can of soda and a short pause, the unmistakable theme from Super Mario Brothers cut into the hush. Sparing a look, the redhead couldn't help but grin as the Slayer focused on the Game Boy in her hands, her feet propped up casually on the table.

"This isn't botherin' ya, is it, Red?"

Willow returned her attention to her computer. "No, go for it."

Over the next couple hours, the witch every so often glanced up at the Slayer, a grin remaining firmly plastered on her face. She chuckled a bit when she noticed the tip of Faith's tongue sticking out the corner of her mouth during moments of intense concentration.

"Somethin' funny?" Faith finally asked without looking up.

"No. I just…think it's cute."

The Slayer tore her gaze away from the game to glare incredulously at the redhead. "It's not _cute_! It's…rugged and, and…"

"Manly?" Willow smirked.

The Slayer sputtered a bit, looking for a comeback. Giving up, she turned back to the Game Boy. "Shut up."

The witch let the smirk slip away as she once again turned back to her laptop. The teasing in her voice, however, remained. "Sorry. Didn't mean to insult your _butchness_."

With a grunt of discontent, Faith turned off the game system, exchanged it for her soda, and took a long swig of the carbonated beverage. Keeping the can in hand, the former rogue reclined back in her chair and fixed her dark gaze on the redheaded hacker. An outside observer might call the look one of inquisitive contemplation. Minutes ticked by, the sound of Willow's typing seeming to race the clock.

"I know I'm fascinating," Willow deadpanned, her eyes not leaving the computer screen, "but is there a particular reason you're staring at me?"

Faith didn't respond at first. Then, "Ya wanna get out of here?"

The suddenness of the question caused Willow to stop typing and look up into the Slayer's eyes. "Huh?"

"I'm bored. Ya wanna go somewhere, do somethin' fun?"

The witch raised a brow. "Like what?"

Faith shrugged. "I don't know…the Bronze?"

Willow glanced at the clock, then down at her computer, then back up at Faith. "Um…sure."

"Cool." The Slayer jumped up from her chair and grabbed her leather jacket, already on her way to the front door. "Let's go!"

Shaking her head at the younger woman's enthusiasm, Willow wrote a short note to Buffy before donning her own red suede jacket.

A short while later found the two women sitting at a table in the Bronze sipping colas. Conversation had been light, focused mainly on what the two wanted to do after the ordeal with the First was over; Willow wanted to return to England for a time, and Faith wanted to travel.

After about an hour, Willow noticed her brunette counterpart gazing almost longingly at the dance floor. "Faith, if you want to dance, just go dance."

"Ya just wanna watch, don'tcha?" the Slayer teased.

The redhead snorted. "I assure you I will be keeping my eyes on the club for any vamp activity and off your perfectly shaped ass."

Faith regarded the witch passively, but a faint playfulness could be seen in her expression. "Ya noticed."

Willow groaned with a dramatic roll of her eyes and took a sip of her drink. Faith swirled her drink around, apparently intent on the light _tinkling_ sound the ice cubes were making. Abruptly, the brunette stood and offered a hand to the redhead.

"Dance with me."

Willow's nearly spit out her soda. "Faith no. I don't—" She was cut off when the Slayer grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. "No, Faith! I don't dance unless I'm drunk, a-a-and even then…much badness!"

Faith smirked and held up a finger and walked towards the bar. The witch watched in dread as the Slayer returned with two shot glasses full of whisky. Faith slid one to Willow and raised the other in a mock toast.

"Bottoms up," she said before tipping the shot glass's contents into her mouth.

Willow took the miniature glass in hand and stared at it forlornly. With a sigh, she mirrored the Slayer's move and downed the amber liquor, grimacing only slightly at its bitterness. Shakira's Eyes Like Yours began to pound out its rhythm from the club sound system, and Faith nearly dragged Willow onto the dance floor.

Pulling the redhead close, the Slayer pressed her mouth to the woman's ear. "No one is watching ya. It's just us, 'kay?"

Willow felt the tiniest flutter from the word 'us,' but she attributed it to the alcohol and responded with a nod. Faith allowed herself a small smile and turned so that the redhead's back was to her. The younger woman sank into the pulsing beat, feeling Willow slowly follow. The brunette rested her hands on her companion's shoulders before trailing them down the witch's arms.

Neither noticed the writhing sea of bodies surrounding them as the music induced a light state of trance in the dancers. Palms planted firmly under her partner's ribs, Faith pulled Willow's body closer against her own and hooked her chin over the witch's shoulder. One of the redhead's hands immediately snaked back around Faith's thigh, while the other reached up and back around Faith's neck. The Slayer was pressed firmly against the witch, and the two rubbed bodies without reservation.

In the closing phrases of the song, Faith turned Willow around and hooked her arms around the redhead's neck. The two shared a grin as though reassuring one another that their proximity was the dance alone.

The song ended, and the two women stepped into the cool night air, still slightly intoxicated from their evening of drink and dance. Faith breathed deeply in relief, not entirely sure the heat she felt was from dancing in a crowded club. Both remained silent as they walked, and when they arrived back at the Summers' house, Faith followed Willow up to her room.

"Had fun?" Faith asked quietly.

Throwing her jacket onto her bed, Willow grinned and shook her head in wonder. "I don't know how you do it." The Slayer raised a questioning brow. "Make me forgot all the bad stuff that's been happening," the witch clarified.

Faith merely looked at her companion for a moment, then shrugged.

"So, are you going to patrol with Buffy tonight?"

The witch received another shrug in response. While Faith wasn't always the most talkative person, Willow noticed the dark Slayer was more taciturn than usual. With a sidelong glance, the redhead saw a serious look on the other woman's face.

"What's up? Your brow's all furrowy."

The witch's comment was accompanied by her fingers smoothing over the Slayer's dark brow and trailing down her cheek. Unconsciously, Faith closed her eyes and leaned into the caress.

"Faith?" Willow whispered.

The Slayer reopened her eyes to find the witch quizzically searching their deep brown depths. Her breath caught in her throat.

"I should go," Faith managed hoarsely.

"Why?" came the soft reply.

Faith bit her bottom lip as she leaned a fraction of an inch closer. "Don't wanna do somethin' stupid."

Willow remained still. "Like?"

Still closer. "Hurtin' ya."

"You promised you wouldn't."

At this, Faith drew back, but only slightly. "What?"

"A few years ago, when you switched bodies with Buffy, you said you wouldn't let…well, _you_…hurt me." The redhead tilted her head. "Did you mean it?"

The Slayer's brow re-furrowed as she thought about that. "…If I didn't then…I do now—"

Surprising both of them, Willow crossed the short distance separating them, capturing Faith's full lips with her own. As the witch's hands slid into the dark waves of the Slayer's hair, tongues met in a tender dance. Neither woman noticed the air in the corner of the room begin to ripple and shimmer. As Faith's fingers traced Willow's jawline, mouths continued to seek out the other's comforting warmth. Neither woman noticed the undulating air begin to solidify as a humanoid form materialized.

"Bitch," a masculine voice spat.

Willow snapped back from Faith at the intruding voice, a look of fear washing over her features. She knew that voice.

"Red…?"

The witch looked up into the questioning and concerned gaze of the Slayer. "He's here."

"What? Who's here?"

Willow looked past Faith's shoulder, eyes focused on a single spot. Dread and despair was clearly written across her expression. "Oh gods, he's here."

Faith looked over her shoulder, quickly scanning the room. "Red, there's no one there."

Despite the Slayer's words, Willow continued to stare in horror at the corner of her room.

Warren Meers sneered back at her.

* * *

Willow came running down the stairs, Faith following closely on her heels. Curious, Buffy, Xander, Anya, and Dawn stood from their respective places around the living to see what was happening. 

"Red, what's goin' on?" Faith asked.

The witch turned around and looked pleadingly up at the dark Slayer. "Make him go away!"

"Make _who_ go away?"

"Don't you see him? He's right there! You have to see him…!" The witch was rapidly breaking down into hysteria as tears began streaming down her face.

"They can't see me!" Warren taunted in a sing-song voice.

Willow whimpered, her whole body trembling. "He's here to punish me…for what I did to him…"

A look of realization came over Buffy. "Warren?" The blonde Slayer gently turned her friend's face towards her. "Is it Warren?"

The witch could only nod. Buffy looked at Faith and then back at the others. When Xander mouthed 'The First?' she could only shrug helplessly. The blonde soothingly stroked Willow's cheek.

"Will, it's probably just the First. trying to shake you up. It can't hurt you."

"The First?" Willow repeated, her voice tiny. Buffy nodded.

Unseen by anyone but the redhead, Warren walked up to her with a cocky smirk. "If I was the First, could I do this?" He reared back a hand and slapped her across the face.

To everyone's surprise, Willow's head suddenly jerked to the side, and the witch's face contorted in pain. "Ow… He…can touch me…?"

Buffy's head snapped up as she shared a concerned look with Faith. "Will…" The blonde once again turned Willow's face towards her, this time looking closely at her friend's cheek. No mark could be seen. "Where is he right now?"

"Right in front of you," the witch answered quietly.

Buffy stuck out her hand, waving it in front of her and searching for any kind of solid contact. Willow cringed as she watched the Slayer's hand pass right through Warren.

"You can't…" Willow gave up and dropped her head while Faith rubbed the witch's shoulder with one hand.

Buffy shook her head. "I don't understand. What brought this on?"

"I don't know," Willow nearly sobbed. "We were just…" She broke off as she realized exactly when Warren appeared. "Then he was just there." She abruptly pulled away from Faith's touch and headed towards the door. "I have to go…I have to figure this out."

"Will—" Xander called.

"No, I probably brought this on myself, so…I'll figure it out myself."

Before anyone could protest further, the redhead was out the door. None were aware that Warren was also no longer in the room.

Buffy turned to Faith. "What the hell happened?"

"I don't got a clue. One minute, we're…" The former rogue paused, also not wanting to divulge the details. "…fine and dandy, and the next, she's wiggin' out."

"I don't like this. She said he can touch her."

"Maybe the First is learning a new trick?" Dawn offered.

"No, there would've been a mark…" Buffy looked up at her companions. "Right? If something actually _hit_ her, there would have been a mark, right?"

"So, you're thinking whatever Willow is seeing isn't really there?" Xander deduced.

"She did say that she probably did this herself," Anya reminded. Her eyes glazed dreamily over. "With a nudge from the right power, any subconscious can become a human's own vengeance demon. Quite useful when I couldn't come up with…" The ex-vengeance demon trailed off at the glares she was receiving. "What?"

Xander spoke first. "So, Willow really could've done this to herself?"

"Oh, absolutely," she answered cheerfully. "I wouldn't put it past her. I mean, she _has_ done this sort of thing before, lest we forget the whole "can't see each other" thing. But it could also be someone else."

"Like who?"

"Um, guys?" Dawn interrupted. "Where's Faith?"

* * *

(NIGHT) 

"You thought you'd get away with it?" Warren guessed angrily. The specter effortlessly kept pace with the witch as she made her way through town. "You really thought it'd be that easy? Huh. And I thought you were the brains of the group."

"Shut up."

"Ooo, nice comeback. Did they teach you that one over in Teabag Central?"

As Willow rounded a corner, another voice greeted her. "There ya are."

Willow looked up just in time to avoid running into the dark-haired Slayer. "Faith—"

Warren groaned. "Oh, great, Super Bitch number two. At least this one isn't as whiny as Slutty the Vampire Layer."

"Ya know, it's probably not the greatest time to be goin' for a stroll by yourself…"

Faith and Warren spoke at the same time, forcing Willow to stop for a minute to sort out their words.

"Faith, go home," the witch ordered firmly, side-stepping the woman and continuing on.

The Slayer ignored the command and fell into step beside the redhead. "Where ya goin'?"

"To see some old friends that might be able to help."

"Thought ya said you were gonna figure it out yourself."

Willow sighed. "I tried. Didn't work."

"Then let me tag along."

"Why?"

"Well, for one, I can't help but feel a little to blame here. I mean, we _were_ ki—"

"Okay!" Willow snapped, cutting the Slayer off. "Fine. Just don't get in my way."

Warren began to sing obnoxiously. "Slayer and witch bitch, sitting in a tree—"

"Shove it, Meers!" the redhead spat, causing the young man to chuckle.

"You know, babe, I have to say, I can definitely see the attraction to this one. Tight leather, curves in just the right places, and she's got the whole dangerous thing going on. I bet she's a wildcat in the sa—"

"Don't you ever stop_ talking_?" Willow practically yelled, causing Faith to flinch.

"Oh sure!" Warren exclaimed. "This coming from the woman who yapped at me _incessantly_ for the last excruciatingly painful half hour of my life! Payback's a bitch, huh?"

"He still here?" Faith asked.

"No, it's the _other_ ghost that haunts me," Willow replied shortly.

"Hey, I just wanna help."

Willow took a calming breath. "I know, and I'm sorry. I'm just frustrated, and I don't mean to take it out on you."

"Don't worry 'bout it." Faith grinned. "Hey, the way I figure, the sooner we get this worked out, the sooner we can get back to…ya know…"

"How touching," Warren muttered. "Say, you think she'll jump your bones? Because that is _definitely_ something I want to see."

Willow grimaced. "You're a pig."

A look of hurt replaced Faith's smirk. "Jeez, sorry."

While Warren chuckled, Willow shook her head. "Not you. Him."

"Oh…good." Faith finally noticed their surroundings, realizing they were on the UC Sunnydale campus. "So, these friends of yours…"

"My old Wicca group."

"Ah."

Faith trailed behind Willow into one of the college's many buildings. The witch seemed to know exactly where she was going as she easily traversed the winding halls. Eventually, the two women and one specter passed through a door and into a standard lecture hall.

A circle of about a dozen female college students sat cross-legged on the floor, hands joined and glowing crystals hanging around their necks. Willow immediately felt a familiar presence but focused instead on the circle leader, who was leading the group in a soothing chant.

"Wow, this is new," the redhead commented.

The darkly-tanned leader looked up. "Um…this is a closed meeting."

A few of the girls waved to the newcomers with small greetings.

"Hey, Willow."

"Nice to see you again."

"Welcome back."

"Hi, ladies," Willow responded. "Got past the whole bake sale phase, huh?"

"Actually, we still do that," the leader corrected. "Second Tuesday of every month. Willow, huh? Former member?"

"Yeah. Uh, sorry to barge in on you guys like this, but… Oh, this is Faith." The Slayer gave am uncomfortable wave to the Wiccans as Willow continued. "Um, I'm kinda having a problem that I was hoping you guys would help me with."

"Spell gone wonky, Will?" a new voice asked.

Willow recognized it instantly and took a steadying breath. "Amy."

"Hi, Willow," the former rat greeted nervously. "Long time."

"Yeah," the redhead agreed warily.

"Ok, look, here's the thing. Oh, hi Faith," Amy momentarily sidetracked. She received a distrustful nod in return. "Ok, so, I'm sorta screwed up. Of course, you already knew that because you…uh, well…lived it…but I'm doing better now. These guys are great, and they've really helped me come to terms with my…issues. And, so, I'm sorry. You know, for what I did to you. I kinda hope we can talk later and maybe be friends again, but I guess now's not a good time, huh?"

"Not really."

"What's going on?"

Willow took another breath. "There's this…spirit…that's hanging around, and I can't get rid of him."

"Spirit of who?" Amy inquired.

"Someone I…uh…knew. Briefly."

"Bad relationship?"

"Um…yeah. Something like that."

"Well, um, we're really more about healing our own spirits and nurturing our life force here."

Willow's face fell. "Oh."

"But, but we can try," Amy amended.

Warren rolled his eyes. "Oh, happy day." He turned to Willow. "Does Sabrina here really think she can do anything _useful_?"

"Oh, what would _you_ know?" the redhead asked irritably.

Amy and the other Wiccans looked confused and traded glances.

Willow shrugged. "He talks a lot."

"Wouldn't be much of a haunt if he didn't," the blonde witch agreed. She clapped her hands together. "So, let's see what we can do."

As the pair of one-time friends discussed possibilities, Faith hung back with Vaughne—the circle leader—and the other girls.

"Think those two can handle it?" the Slayer ask wondered.

"Got a better idea?" Vaughne countered with a shrug.

Faith mirrored the gesture and didn't reply. The other woman opened her mouth to say something but hesitated. Eventually, she decided to just ask.

"You two been together long?"

The Slayer blinked. "What? No. No, I'm not her…I mean, we're not…we're just friends."

"Oh. Sorry. I just figured…"

Vaughne trailed off, not sure how to proceed from there. After a pause, she gave up and blew out a breath. An awkward hush followed during which Faith fought the urge to fidget.

She needed a cigarette.

Or maybe a drink.

A few yards away, Willow and Amy were lighting candles.

"I, um…I heard about Tara," Amy said quietly, wincing when Willow sucked in a breath and held it. "I'm sorry."

Not trusting her voice, the redhead simply nodded in acknowledgment. A few moments of silence passed while she drew a circle with sacred sand. Amy placed the candles on the circle's four points, along with a crystal.

She braved another comment. "So…Faith, huh? Didn't see that coming. Doesn't really seem like your type."

Willow coughed. "Huh?"

"Faith. Your girlfriend?"

"My _what_ now?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Your lover."

Willow's eyes went wide at Amy's rephrasing. "No! What? No." She shook her head. "No, we're not…No. She's not my girlfriend."

"Oh yes," Warren chimed in, using a high-pitched voice to mock Willow. "She's just a friend. I make out and have dance-sex with _all _of _my_ friends."

"Oh, she's not?" Amy wondered, not sounding convinced. "So the big, bad, dark Slayer is following you around like a lovesick puppy in case an apocalypse just _happens_ to occur right in front of you?"

Willow glared incredulously at the former rat. "That's not what she's doing. A-and Faith doesn't get lovesick. She just gets…uh…some." The redhead nearly slapped herself for that particular statement.

Warren snorted. "No kidding."

Willow groaned inwardly as Amy raised an amused brow. "She's just a friend," she insisted, sounding more like she was trying to convince herself than Amy.

"Uh huh."

The redhead increased the venom in her glare. Amy held up her hands in surrender, so Willow went back to the difficult task of ignoring the gaze of the dark Slayer.

She could use a drink.

Or maybe a good fix.

She shook her head. Even after all this time, old addictions die hard. "Are we ready to do this?" she asked impatiently.

"Sure, let's give it a try."

Willow took a handful of the scared sand from the jar and threw it over Warren, muttering a command. "Continere."

"Cough, cough. That tickles," the man mocked. "What are you trying to do? Choke me with fairy dust?"

The redhead didn't answer, instead returning to sit within the circle, facing Amy. Each picked up a crystal and held it in the palms of their hands. Warren attempted to approach the two witches, but found himself trapped in the small ring of sand Willow had created around him with a word of containment.

"Is he bound?" Amy asked. When Willow nodded, the former rat began reciting a prayer. "Hecate, goddess of the underworld, we beseech you: claim this spirit lost. Banish him from the living world and return his soul to the peace of the ether realm."

The small flickering flames of the candles suddenly leapt upwards in a fierce blaze, and the crystals began to glow. Willow and Amy both yelped in surprise as their gemstones grew hot in their hands. Dropping them, the two women quickly stood. In unison, the crystals forming the circle and within it shattered, and the candles went out.

"Did it work?" Amy wondered.

Warren, freed from his prison, angrily stalked up to the witches. "No, you dumb bitch, it didn't."

Willow's head turned with the slap that followed. Without thinking, the redhead lashed out at the dark-haired menace. Her retaliation, though, passed right through Warren and struck Amy in the face. Both witches wore looks of shock.

"Ow," Amy whined. "You hit me!"

Willow shook her head. "I'm, I'm sorry. I didn't mean…I, I tried to hit _him_…"

The blonde witch rubbed her cheek. "Well, you missed."

The redhead stared at Warren's leering face, then lowered her gaze with a whisper. "Why don't you just kill me..,?" She felt a hand on her arm and looked up into Faith's concerned expression.

"Red, nobody's gonna—"  
Amy held up a hand, cutting the Slayer off. "She's not asking us. She's asking him."

Willow abruptly turned on her heel and started rushing out of the room. "I'm sorry, I…I have to leave."

"Red!" Faith called as she jogged after the witch. "Red, wait up!" Willow was forced to halt her retreat when the Slayer took hold of her arm. "We can try again—"

"No, Faith, it's not working. Just…leave me alone."

Willow jerked free of the brunette's grasp and continued on her way. Faith attempted to follow, but an invisible barrier sprung up and blocked her path. "Red!" she called a final time before her friend disappeared down the hall.

* * *

(LATER THAT NIGHT) 

"So why'd you do it?" Warren pressed.

It sounded as though this conversation had been going for a while. Willow quickened her pace as if trying to outrun the presence dogging her.

"Okay, one, you're not going to get rid of me by _running_, and two, it's a simple question."

"If you don't shut your mouth—"

"What are you going to do, kill me _again_?" Warren challenged. "Just give me an answer. You moved Heaven and Earth to kill me, and I want to know why."

The witch turned abruptly on him. "BECAUSE YOU DESERVED IT!"

"But did Tara?" he retorted, unphased.

All Willow's anger suddenly evaporated. "What?"

"Did she deserve what you did to her?" The witch was silent. "Okay, so I shot her. It wasn't intentional or anything, but you…" Warren scoffed. "You make a big gory show of avenging her death: strike one. Then, you go all Dark Phoenix, trying to kill everyone in your way and destroy the world because you can't handle the pain of living without her: strike two. But you know what takes the cake here, sweet cheeks? The fact that, in the wake of that whole glorified crusade of yours, what do you do? You play tonsil hockey with the first piece of ass you can get your slutty little hands on: strike three, babe. So, I ask again: is that fair to Tara?"

Willow stared at the ground, the burden of Warren's rant weighing heavily on her mind.

The young man continued his taunt. "Come on, witch. I thought you loved her."

"Shut up." Whispered.

"I thought you'd do anything for her."

"_Shut. Up._" More forcefully.

"You killed for her…"

"SHUT UP!" Screaming.

Warren paused, taking a moment to glance at the storefront they had stopped in front of. Then, he played his final card. "I thought you'd _die_ for her."

Willow looked up at the store window, taking in the array of firearms on display. Comprehension burned in her darkened eyes.

* * *

(EARLY MORNING) 

Once the door closed behind the last Wiccan member, Faith turned to the only other occupant in the lecture hall.

"Ya did this to her, didn't ya?"

Amy feigned innocence. "What?"

"Don't play dumb with me, rat girl. Ya may be able to fool them, and Will might be a little too distracted right now to see it, but I'm a Slayer. I can feel that you're still usin' some dark mojo."

The witch smirked. "Oops."

Faith clenched her fist and made to strike. With an almost lazy gesture from Amy, though, she was sent flying through the air, impacting hard against the wall on the opposite side of the lecture hall. After briefly slumping to the floor, the brunette staggered to her feet and sent daggers in the blonde's direction with her dark gaze.

Amy rolled her eyes. "Really, Slayer, you should know better than to mess with a witch."

"What did ya do to her?" Faith demanded.

"My, my, aren't we protective…" Amy received another cold glare. "Oh, it's just your standard penance malediction."

Faith raised a brow. "And that means?"

The witch gave her a patronizing look that one would give a child, annunciating her words with precise derision. "_I put a hex on her_."

"Undo it," Faith nearly growled.

The former rat shrugged. "Can't."

The Slayer's voice dropped dangerously low. "What?"

"See, that's the great thing about this hex," Amy began cheerfully. "It lets Willow's subconscious pick her own punishment. It's always better than anything I can come up with. And the only way the hex stops is if Willow resolves whatever it is she's punishing herself for. Therefore, no mess for me."

The Slayer spoke before thinking. "But why when we kissed?"

Amy's face registered surprise, then amusement. "Oh…" She chuckled. "Oh, that's rich. Looks like Willow's feeling a bit guilty about that. Huh. Go figure."

Faith ignored the barb. "Do ya really hate her that much?"

"Hate? No. Ask Willow, and she'll tell you this isn't about hate. It's about power. Willow's always had all the power, long before she even knew what to do with it. It just came so easy for her, while the rest of us had to work _twice_ as hard to be _half_ as good as her! But let me ask you something. Do people care how hard you work?"

Not waiting for an answer, Amy continued her rant. "No! They only care about the end product. They only care about cute, sweet, innocent Willow. Well, let me tell you something: Willow's not innocent. She gave in to evil, stuff worse than I can even imagine. The girl murdered two humans, almost destroyed the world, and people keep on loving her! But when I try to have a little fun, I get knocked down for it. It's not fair!"

Faith scoffed. "That's it? You're jealous?"

"Like you were never jealous of Buffy?" The dark-haired Slayer had no retort. "Thought so. I'm just _slightly_ more efficient at dealing with it."

"This isn't dealin'. This is punishin' Will for somethin' that ain't her fault."

Amy nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, it is, isn't it?" Her face brightened. "Oh well. Not my problem." Faith took a menacing step forward, but Amy held up a hand. "Careful, Slayer."

"Just tell me how to fix this."

Amy sighed. "I told you, you can't. Willow has to ride this out herself. But don't worry. She'll figure it out. She always does. And, for the record, it's not my fault she's losing it. Now, if you want to watch the show…that I can help you with." She smirked. "Should be a blast."

Before Faith could protest, Amy snapped her fingers, and the Slayer disappeared from the room.

* * *

(MORNING) 

In the backyard of the Summers house, Buffy was starting training exercises with the recently returned Potentials. All of the them jumped when a light flashed, and when it subsided, they were shocked to see Faith standing in its place, looking more than a little disoriented.

"Well, that was a hell of a thing," Kennedy commented.

"Does she do that kind of thing often?" Rona wondered.

Buffy took a step towards her sister Slayer. "Um….Faith?"

The dark-haired woman shook her head. "Don't ask."

"Okay."

"Red here?"

At that moment, Willow walked through the gate into the backyard, quiet determination in her step. Warren, still invisible to everyone else, followed. Faith moved to intercept the redhead.

"Red! It was Amy. She put a hex on—"

"I know," Willow interrupted. "She thinks I'm weak, but I felt it…could practically taste the dark magic she used."

"'kay, good. Then we just gotta figure out how to get rid of it. I'll help, if ya let me…"

"She's trying to trick you," Warren whispered in the redhead's ear. "Make you forget…"

"You can't help me, Faith. No one can."

"Why not?"

Faith took a step back when Willow lifted her arm, pointing a gun at her. Buffy's eyes went wide, and the Potentials exchanged worried glances. For once, Warren remained silent, content to simply watch the scene unfold.

"I get it now," Willow said. "He _is_ here to punish me, but not for what I did to him. He's here because of what I did with _you_."

"What you did with me…? Red—"

"I'm being punished," the witch repeated. "I kissed you just, just for a second, but it was enough."

At this revelation, Buffy switched her gaze between the two women, stunned.

Willow continued, letting out a small sob. "I let her go. I didn't mean to."

A look of understanding immediately passed over Faith's expression. "Red, kissin' me didn't mean tha—"

"No, she was never gone," Willow interrupted, the desperation clear in her voice. "She was with me! We should have been forever, and I…" The redhead cringed remorsefully. "I let her be dead. She's really dead." Another sob made her voice waver. "And I killed her."

As Willow started to break down, Faith took a tiny step forward, ignoring the tears coursing down her own cheeks. "No ya didn't… Come on, Red, put the gun down. Ya know Tara wouldn't—"

The distraught witch quickly raised the gun level to Faith's chest. "_Don't_! Don't you say her name! You don't…you don't get to do this. It's your fault!"

"Blamin' me isn't goin' to make the pain stop."

"No…" the witch agreed, suddenly subdued. Lowering the firearm again, she stared at it as if seeing it for the first time. "It won't."

Faith's stomach lurched as the redhead rested her forehead against the barrel of the gun. "Will, you're scarin' me," the Slayer admitted quietly, her voice quavering.

The witch continued as though she didn't hear the Slayer. "God, Faith, I'm so tired of this. Of everything. I just want it to stop." Willow turned the muzzle of the firearm inward at her temple. "Just make it stop..."

Buffy held her breath as Faith dashed forward with every ounce of speed the Slayer could muster, Wrenching the gun out of Willow's hand and dropping the weapon to the ground, the brunette pulled the redhead into her arms and held her tightly. At this point, Willow broke into sobs, and the Slayer dropped to the grass, still holding the quivering witch in her strong embrace.

"Faith, make it stop," Willow pleaded. "Please, just make it—"

She was silenced by Faith's lips on hers. The witch struggled at first, pushing futilely against the Slayer's firm grip on her arms. Soon, though, the shock wore off, the reflex died, and Willow clung to Faith's leather jacket. Unseen by anyone, the image of Warren faded silently into nothingness.

Breaking away and carefully prying the witch off of her, Faith searched Willow's eyes.

"He's…he's gone…" the redhead whispered.

Faith cracked a tiny grin. "Damn, I'm good."

A final tear slipped down Willow's cheek. "…she's gone, too."

"But you're not alone," Faith answered softly.

Mentally exhausted, Willow slumped against the Slayer and closed her eyes. Gently, Faith picked the nearly unconscious witch up and began carrying her into the house. She stopped, however, when Buffy called her name. The blonde Slayer conveyed a look of gratitude to her darker counterpart, to which the brunette simply nodded.

With that, Faith disappeared into the house with Willow. Buffy stood staring after the two, then slowly dragged her gaze away. When her eyes came to rest on the gun laying in the grass, the blonde broke into tears and sank to the ground, oblivious to the watchful Potentials surrounding her.

Inside, Faith gently lowered Willow onto the witch's bed. She pulled the comforter up to the woman's shoulders and brushed a stray lock of auburn hair from Willow's face.

"…thank you…" the sleepy redhead mumbled.

"Any time, Red," Faith whispered back, placing a tender kiss on the woman's brow.

Moving to the foot of the bed, the Slayer sat down and fixed her gaze on the witch, silently wondering when she had grown soft.

"Never alone," she echoed, as though trying to convince herself.

…_to be continued…_


	2. Part II

Uninvited

_Disclaimer: All rights belong to Joss Whedon and ME._

_Summary: Two-part sequel to Wind Beneath Me. Faith's affections aroused some uninvited feelings in Willow. Now, can the two leave the past buried, finding strength in each other to move on with their future?_

_Author's Note: This second half is based off the episodes Empty Places and Touched._

_WARNING: Adult situation between two women._

_Like any uncharted territory  
I must seem greatly intriguing  
You speak of my love like  
You have experienced like mine before  
But this is not allowed  
You're uninvited  
An unfortunate slight_

_I don't think you unworthy  
I need a moment to deliberate_

_Uninvited---Alanis Morissette_

* * *

Part II  
_Three weeks later…_  
The night was young, but that didn't mean much. The disaster at the vineyard had left everyone shaken if not bruised and broken. The few days following had been spent licking wounds and laying low. 

For Faith, her ego was bruised more than anything else. Being swatted away like a fly was not the kind of result she was used to in a fight. Her method of nursing her battered pride, of course, was avoiding everyone. Everyone but a particular redheaded witch, that is. A redheaded witch that gave exquisite back rubs.

"Faith?"

From her prone position on Willow's bed, the brunette Slayer looked over her shoulder at the witch. "Yeah?"

"What's your middle name?"

Faith's face scrunched up in confusion. "Where did _that_ come from?"

"Curse of an ever active brain."

"Heh. I'll tell ya some other time."

Willow fell onto her elbows next to Faith. Behind them, their legs entwined. "Like when?"

"Today's Tuesday, right? So, how 'bout a couple days from _never_."

The redhead nudged the Slayer with her shoulder. "Oh, come on! You know mine!"

"Yeah, but Danielle ain't a bad name."

"Is it really so bad that you can't even tell me?"

Faith sucked in a breath and held it for a moment. "…Yes."

"Wimp." Willow began to fidget with the brunette's hand. "Well, you _know_ this just makes me want to find out even more, right?"

Faith grinned fondly and interlaced their fingers. "I'm sure it does."

The Slayer leaned over, and as soon as their lips touched, there was a knock. Both looked up to see Buffy standing in the open doorway.

"Hey, B."

"Sorry to interrupt, but I've called a meeting," the blonde explained.

Willow and Faith exchanged looks, then followed Buffy downstairs to the living room. The Potentials were already present, and the rest of the Scooby gang was scattered among them. The blonde Slayer gave Xander's shoulder a slight squeeze as she passed by to stand in the middle of the room.

"If it's alright with everyone, I'd like to skip the formalities and jump right to the point," Buffy began. "I had a run-in with Caleb at the school today."

"Gods, Buffy, are you okay?" Willow asked, concerned.

"I'm fine. Bruised, but I've certainly had worse. He said something interesting to me, though. He claims he has something of mine. I'm not sure what it is, but if he doesn't want me to have it, then I'm betting it'd be useful."

Xander scratched his cheek under his eye patch. "Well, how do we figure out what it is?"

"Easy," Buffy answered. "We're going back in."

"No," Willow asserted, eliciting a surprised double-take from the blonde.

"What?"

"Buffy, you're not taking these girls back into that death trap."

"This is war, Will. Decisions have to be made, and they're not easy, but someone has to make them. We can't just sit around and wait for the First and its flunkies to pick us off one by one."

"So your plan is to march everyone to the slaughterhouse? Brilliant."

"I'm _trying_, Will."

"To do what? Get everyone killed?"

"To keep at least some of us alive through the end."

"Buffy, look at Xander. He's missing an eye. Or look at Rona, who can't use her arm, or Kennedy, who got her face bashed in. Are you blind to all of this?"

"Willow, don't turn against me."

"No, Buff, answer me. Can you really look these girls in the eye and ask them to sacrifice their lives just so you can play Finders Keepers with Caleb?"

"If he has something of mine, something that could end this war _now_, then we have to get it. No matter what the cost."

"The Buffy I knew would never strike a bargain with herself like that. She wouldn't pick the many over the few, she'd pick everyone. What happened, Buff?"

"I died, Will. I sacrificed myself to save the world. Or did you forget about that?"

"No, Buffy, you didn't die for the world. You died for Dawn."

"I was—"

"You were ready to let the world drown in Hell so long as no harm came to her. As much as I love Dawn, don't try to glorify what you did. The martyr act only lasts so long. So, okay, you guys go to the vineyard, and Caleb kills all the girls. And you. And Faith. Then, there are no more Slayers to fight this war, and no more Potentials to be called. Then what?"

"Willow, I know in my heart that if anything happened to me, you would—"

"Go homicidal?" the witch interrupted.

"I didn't say that."

"But you know it's true."

"No, it's not. I know you, Will. In seven years, you've always believed in fighting the good fight."

"No, Buffy. For the first five years, I believed in fighting the good fight. Then, like you said: you died, and a part of me did, too."

"Will—"

"Do you have any comprehension of what I had to do to keep everyone going after that? Not even taking into account what I had to do to keep _myself_ going? And then, a year passed…"

"Willow, don't do this."

"…and the purest soul that I ever knew was ripped from this world. Not by the vampires or demons or hell gods that we face on a daily basis, but by some jackass with a gun. And when she died, Buffy, the last part of me that believed in anything good in this world died with her."

"But you have Faith, now," Buffy argued, trying to choke back her tears.

"But does that fix everything that's happened the last few years? Give back everything I've lost? Does that bring me back to life?" Willow nodded. "You're right, it does. A little. But if by some miracle I survive this eighth apocalypse or whichever one it is, I'll still never get back who I was, Buffy. Not fully."

"Then why are you here, Will?" the blonde demanded, losing her patience. "If you lost all faith, then what the hell good are you doing here?"

"Believe me, Buff, I'd still be in England if I had my way, but Giles said I'd be needed. You need me in this fight."

"Then try _fighting_, Will." The redhead winced, and Buffy continued. "I don't exactly see you doing any of the heavy lifting around here."

"Hey, lay off her, B."

Faith was ignored.

"I am trying, Buffy, but I'm not like Spike was up until a few months ago. I don't have the safety net of some government chip that sends shockwaves of pain through my head every time I try to hurt someone. If I lose control, Buffy, even for just a second, people will die."

"Now isn't the time to play it safe, Will. We need all the firepower we can get, and right now, you're it."

"You know, I really wish you would make up your mind."

Buffy paused in confusion. "About what?"

"First, magic made everything easy. Then, you decided I was using it too much and told me to back off. But when things got just a little rough, you come crawling back, begging me to magic the situation away. And then, of course, you're all surprised when you find out that even I can screw up. Well guess what, Buff, I'm not perfect, and asking me to let loose is just adding fuel to the inferno we're about to get sucked into."

Willow took a deep breath to calm herself. "I'm sorry. I love you Buffy, but…you're not thinking clearly on this. I think...maybe you need a break from leading. Let Faith take over for a while."

"What?"

The brunette in question shifted uncomfortably. "Uh, Red, can we talk about this for a sec?"

"You're a Slayer, too, Faith," Willow reminded. "I think you deserve a shot at being in charge."

"I'm not a leader, Red. Not really much of a follower, either, but that's not the point."

"Willow…" Buffy took a breath, trying to make sense of what was happening. "Look, we can talk about this plan some more, but you can't just stick Faith in charge."

"Why not?" Willow pressed.

"Because she's not…" The blonde Slayer cut herself off to rephrase. "She doesn't have the experience, and I really don't think _now_ is the time to test her out."

"She's not a _car_, Buffy. She's a Slayer."

"Technically, she's _the_ Slayer," Anya interrupted.

Buffy appeared doubtful. "What?"

"Well, Buffy, you drowned. Xander brought you back, but those few minutes were enough, and that other Slayer—"

"Kendra," Xander supplied.

"—was called. When _she_ died, Faith was called. When you died again, no new girl was called. At least, not that we know of. So it's only logical to assume the Slayer line is carried by Faith now, not you."

Buffy looked hurt by this comment, and Faith looked just plain anxious.

"That may be true on a technical level," the former argued, "but she gave up the right to that title years ago and is just now even _starting_ to try to reclaim it. For seven years, I've always been _the_ Slayer on this Hellmouth. Therefore, leader."

"But why is it you?" Kennedy challenged. "You're not even the most powerful person in this room." She crossed her arms defiantly at the blonde's glare. "Next to Willow, you're not even close."

Willow closed her eyes and rubbed her face. "Kennedy…"

"Yes, but I _use_ the power I have," Buffy countered.

"Maybe we should vote," Dawn suggested quietly.

The blonde Slayer flinched. "Dawn…"

"I'm sorry, Buffy. You're my sister and I love you, but I think Willow's right. I think you need to step down for a while."

Buffy switched her gaze between her sister and her best friend in disbelief. Seeing no sign of amnesty, she retreated from the living room and walked out the door. Willow quickly followed.

"Buffy!"

The blonde stopped but didn't face her friend. "Will, I have to know…is this a girlfriend obligation thing? Or do you really believe Faith can lead these girls?"

Willow hesitated only briefly. "I believe she deserves the opportunity to try. And yes, I believe she has the potential to do it well."

Buffy nodded to herself and tried to hide a sniffle. "Then you stick by her, like you always stuck by me. And tell her not to be afraid to lead them. They're her responsibility now."

"Buffy…" Willow found it hard to hold back tears. "I'd stick by you, too, if you'd let me, but you're making it so hard."

"I guess we all do what we have to…"

With that, Buffy walked into the night, leaving Willow distraught on the front porch. The witch stared at the spot where Buffy faded from view, not hearing the door behind her open. The hand that landed gently on her shoulder finally snapped Willow out of her stupor.

"Oh Goddess…what did we just do?" she asked in horror, abruptly turning to Faith.

"Calm down, Red. It's not that bad."

"Not that bad?" the redhead all but screeched. "We just kicked Buffy out! How is that not bad? We…Goddess, we _mutinied_."

By now, Willow was very nearly hyperventilating. Faith shushed soothingly and pulled the flustered redhead into her arms. "…We did. We really did. But it's gonna be okay, 'cause ya know what? I think ya had it right. B was crazy to want to go back in like that."

"You think?"

"Yeah."

At this, Willow finally relaxed in the Slayer's embrace, sighing in content. No matter how bad things were or how scared she was, the witch always felt safe wrapped in Faith's strong arms.

The Slayer, though, was anything but relaxed. Not only did the butterflies of desire constantly fluttering about in her stomach refuse to settle, she was also quickly becoming distressed about the new responsibility that had been thrown onto her shoulders.

"Will?"

"Yeah?"

"Did ya mean what ya said to B earlier?"

"Which part?"

"That I deserve a shot at this whole leader thing?'

The witch pulled back just enough to meet the Slayer's gaze. "I wouldn't have said it otherwise."

Faith was quiet for several moments. "I'm not sure I can."

"Won't know until you try, but I think you can."

The brunette looked into the redhead's eyes for a moment longer, finding comfort in their green depths. Dipping her head slightly, she brushed her lips against Willow's. "I'll do my best."

"I know."

* * *

(THE NEXT NIGHT)  
The kitchen of the Summers' residence teemed with teenage girls as they inhaled half the food in the house. Faith herself polished off the last Hot Pocket, failing to notice Andrew's persistent glare. Willow sat at the dining room table with her laptop in front of her. The witch didn't look up when Spike came in the front door and approached her. 

"I think I got a lead," the vampire informed her. "Where's Buffy?"

Faith leaned against the doorframe leading to the kitchen, her arms crossed casually. "B's takin' a break from bein' in charge."

Spike's eyebrows drew together in confusion, then it hit him. "Oh." He chuckled, but it was without mirth. "Is that right? And I suppose she stepped back willingly."

"Not quite," the Slayer answered, unaffected by the venom in the vampire's tone.

"So I guess you finally got what you wanted, eh? Your own little Scooby gang, the rugrats looking up to you…"

"Look, I really don't got the patience for a vampire I was just as soon see as a pile of dust, so either fall in line, or get the hell out."

"Look at you," Spike said in mock awe. "The big, bad, dark Slayer, all puffed up and mighty…" He leered at her. "Always were jealous of Buffy, weren't you?"

Faith's hand clenched into a tight fist, but she resisted the bait. "Maybe, but I pull for the good guys, now."

"I bet you do."

With that, Spike threw out a punch that connected with Faith's jaw. The Slayer retaliated with a jab first to his stomach, then his nose. After blocking the vampire's next attack, a kick to his torso sent him backwards. Willow lifted her laptop and leaned back in her chair just as Spike went sliding across the dining room table.

"Guys, stop it!" the witch yelled.

She was ignored as Spike leapt to his feet and delivered a sharp uppercut. Grabbing his arm, Faith swung him into the wall and moved to pin him down.

None too happy, Willow stood and barked out a command. "_Separate_!"

The Slayer and vampire were repelled away from each other and had to struggle to keep their footing. Neither looked pleased, but both cringed at the witch's irritated expression. It also didn't escape their attention that her eyes were a few shades darker than they should be.

"If you two want to fight, do it after the world ends, okay?"

Spike brought a hand to his bleeding nose. "And you call yourself Buffy's friend."

"I am. I'm just not afraid to call her on it when she's wrong." The vampire growled and took a menacing step forward, but the witch held up her hand. "Think about that, Spike. Am I really the person you want to piss off right now?"

With a grunt of disgust, the vampire threw his hands up, turned, and strode out the front door. Faith watched him leave, glowering as she rubbed her jaw. She then turned her glare on the Potentials looking in from the kitchen.

"What the hell are ya lookin' at? Show's over." As the girls scampered out of sight, Faith turned to Willow. "Tell me again why he's still around?"

"Not a clue."

The Slayer nodded, then affectionately stroked the redhead's arm. "I'm sorry."

Willow shook her head as she sat back down. "Forget it. Tensions are high right now, and the last thing we need is another complication."

Just as the words left her mouth, all the lights went out, leaving the house illuminated by only the faint moonlight streaming through the windows.

"Ya had to say it," Faith teased.

Willow sighed as she powered down her laptop to conserve its battery. Some of the Potentials carefully made their way into the dining room.

"Okay, officially freaked out," Vi commented shakily.

"What happened?" Kennedy asked.

The Slayer shrugged. "Looks like the power company left town and took the power with 'em…"

"There are candles in the china cabinet here and flashlights in the kitchen if you ladies want to find them," Willow informed them.

Several girls, along with Andrew, began hunting for the items. A couple dozen candles were soon gathered on the dinner table to await being lit.

"Um, we couldn't find the matches," Andrew told Willow. "Or one of those butane lighter things. Faith, maybe you could use your lighter…"

The boy trailed off as the redheaded witch swept her hand upwards above the array of candles. In unison, a small flame flickered to life on about half of them.

"Whoa, you're like…Dumbledore, or something," Andrew breathed in awe.

"Or something," Willow muttered. "Put a few candles in each room and leave the flashlights here for now," she instructed the girls. When they set about their task, she turned to Faith. "Bring some candles upstairs?"

"Sure."

When both women reached for the unlit candles, Faith's fingers brushed the back of Willow's hand, and she felt the witch shiver. The Slayer let the touch linger as they met each other's gaze. In contrast to the redhead, Faith felt a spark of warmth in the pit of her stomach, and she pulled away before the spark could flare into a blaze.

Taking an armload of candles, the Slayer quickly retreated upstairs and entered Willow's bedroom.

"I see my girl's doing well for herself," a painfully familiar voice said.

Faith dropped the waxy items on the desk and turned towards the image of Mayor Wilkins. "Get out," she ordered simply.

"Well gosh. You'd think I'd at least get a 'hello' or a 'nice to see you.' I mean, the end of the world doesn't mean the end of courtesy," he chastised.

"I know what ya are, so don't waste your incorporeal breath."

The likeness of the mayor smiled, unperturbed. "No matter how much you pretend to have changed, you're still the same little spitfire that came to me those few years ago. Sooner or later, they'll figure that out."

"They?"

"Your friends," Wilkins answered matter-of-factly. "When this is all over, they won't need you anymore, and you'll go back to being the outcast. Providing you're all still alive, that is," he added with a chuckle. "You see, Faith, to them, you're just a murderer. First chance they get, they'll toss you back in that eight by eight cell you've been living in the past three years, and they'll throw away the key."

Faith was silent.

"I know what you're thinking," the mayor continued knowingly. "You're thinking the witch is different. That she sees the real you. But you should know better than that, Faith. You know getting too close to someone will only get you hurt."

The Slayer didn't react.

Wilkins went on, his fatherly tone not wavering in the slightest. "You're a free spirit, Faith. I don't see a future with her."

"I never think that far ahead," the former rogue finally said.

"Maybe the problem is she does," the mayor countered. "She'll never love you. Faith. None of them will. Not like I do."

"Get out."

"I'm with you, Faith, in everything you do."

The First vanished from the room, leaving the Slayer alone in the darkness. Standing pensively still, she flinched when a hand landed on her shoulder.

"Sorry," came the soft apology. "You okay?"

"Fine."

"You sure? You seem kinda broody." Faith shrugged it off, and the witch cocked her head to the side. "Let me guess: you got a visit from our friendly neighborhood source of all evil?"

Faith grunted a confirmation, then turned to her girlfriend. "Do ya ever wonder what things would be like if ya just made a couple different choices?"

Willow gave a bitter laugh. "Every day."

Faith looked down and nodded to herself. The redhead started setting the candles up, though not taking her eyes off the brunette. As she lit a few, she let out a breath.

"You know, the Coven taught me something when I was in England. They told me that the world is always struggling for balance between the good and the bad. They said that nothing bad ever happens without some kind of good coming of it. For the longest time, I didn't know what they meant. I didn't know how anything _good_ could come of Tara's death." Finished with the candles, the redhead snaked her arms around Faith's waist and rested her chin on the Slayer's shoulder. "I think I get it now."

"But doesn't that mean that bad things come from good things, too?"

Willow let her arms drop as she walked a couple paces to the dresser. There, framed pictures of her friends from over the years stared up at her. A photo Tara and herself sat in the middle. "If life as a Scooby has taught me nothing else…" she trailed off sadly.

Faith walked up behind her and mirrored Willow's earlier embrace. "We'll get through this."

"You sound so sure," Willow noted.

"Just gotta have a little Faith."

Willow craned her neck back at the Slayer and quirked an eyebrow. "Okay, that was just bad."

The brunette flashed a wicked grin. "Yeah, it was. How 'bout where there's a Will, there's a way?"

Willow groaned. "You're obnoxious."

Faith shrugged. "Eh, it's why ya love me."

The Slayer's grin slipped away as she watched the witch's expression turn serious. She opened her mouth to try to amend the statement but managed only awkward silence.

Willow finally broke the hush, looking over her shoulder at the Slayer. "You're right, you know."

"'bout what?"

"I love you."

Somehow, the words weren't as hard to hear as Faith always thought they'd be. She tried to speak again but paused to find the right words. When she found them, she turned Willow around in her arms so that they faced each other. "Whatever's comin'…whatever's left of me when this is over…I'm yours."

Willow seemed to understand the underlying message and reached up the little bit needed to kiss her Slayer. After the brief contact, their lips met again. And again. And again. The kiss was slow, patient, but searing, not unlike their first kiss. A flush of heat passed between them, and they broke away from each other, nearly panting with the heady sensation.

Without leaving Faith's gaze, Willow lifted her arms into the air in voiceless consent. The Slayer faltered, unsure if this was right.

"What are ya doin'?"

"Having a little Faith," the witch answered simply.

Willow was rewarded with the tiniest blush coloring the dark Slayer's cheeks and smiled slightly to reassure her.

"But…but what about…" Faith stopped short of saying the blonde's name.

"I'm trying to move on. I think I'm ready to…but I can't if you're not there with me."

The younger woman hesitated only a few seconds longer before smoothly peeling the shirt from the witch's body. In a equally graceful move, the Slayer stripped off her own shirt. A tentative hand reached out and touched Faith's bare shoulder. Leaning closer so that their foreheads touched, the brunette lifted her own hand. Feather-light knuckles trailed down Willow's freckled chest, barely brushing against a sensitive breast, and another shiver coursed through the witch.

Faith's hands fell to Willow's hips and pulled her into a passionate kiss, and smaller hands worked their way into the dark Slayer's chocolaty hair. When Faith's hands fell further to cup the witch's rear, the redhead began to chuckle.

The brunette pulled away. "What?"

"Faith-hands on my butt," the redhead explained. "Definitely a new feeling."

The Slayer grinned. "Good feelin'?"

Willow smiled and kissed her in reply. She laughed when Faith growled, briefly dropping her head to suck on the tender flesh of her throat. When their eyes locked again, the two lovers shared a soft smile. The candlelight flickered steadily on as the two finished divesting each other of their remaining articles of clothing.

With fingers lightly tracing Willow's jawline, Faith pressed her lips to the witch's before gently easing her down onto the comforter of the bed. Bodies locked together, and inquisitive hands began loving explorations. Teeth grazed skin as they ground softly into one another.

Willow whimpered as Faith's velvety tongue slid across the already damp skin of her chest. Enjoying the pleasant salt of perspiration, the Slayer's tongue continued on, dipping into the hollow of the witch's neck before gentle teeth nipped at her collarbone.

Feeling a wet drop touch her cheek, Faith looked up at her lover and was confused to see a few stray tears rolling down her face. Concerned, she paused her movements.

"Will?"

"No, don't stop," Willow breathed. "God, never stop."

Pressing her lips to one of the salty trails, the Slayer resumed her ministrations. Soon, through a connection neither woman truly understood, every ounce of Willow's release pulsed through Faith's own body: physically, emotionally, and spiritually. The waves nearly drowned her in their intensity, and Faith was swept into her own release.

Willow's heavy breathing gradually became broken with sobs as the catharsis fully washed over her. Genuinely scared, Faith looked on, fighting the urge to find her clothes and bolt from the room.

"Do…do ya regret…this?"

The witch's head snapped up, startled by how fragile the Slayer sounded. She noticed Faith wouldn't look at her. "No," she said firmly. "No, I just…never thought I'd feel that again…"

Hesitantly, the younger woman looked into the redhead's eyes. In her heart, Faith knew Willow didn't mean the physical sensation, and the thought both terrified and excited her. The elusive "that" was not something the Slayer had felt with any of her numerous past lovers. Her response was to roll onto her back, pulling the redhead onto her chest.

For an indefinite amount of time, the two lay still in each other's arms. Lazily, Faith stroked Willow's hair as she stared at the ceiling. The redhead, in turn, listened to the hypnotic beat of the dark beauty's heart.

"Aidan," Faith said after a while.

"What?"

"My middle name. Aidan."

Blinking in surprise, Willow shifted so that she looked down into Faith's eyes. "What does it mean?"

"'Little fire.'" There was a hint of nostalgia in the Slayer's expression. Her gaze never left the ceiling. "My mom used to call me 'firecracker.'"

Willow chuckled lightly. "Fitting." The redhead kissed Faith's neck, then nestled down into that very spot. "Love you, Fai."

As the redhead drifted off to sleep in her arms, Faith whispered into the darkness.

"Love ya, too, Will."

_End._


End file.
